Oh Come On!
by LizzeXX
Summary: SuperWhoLock - Team Freewill, and their extra member Michelle, have seen a new blog post by one John Watson. It seems he and Sherlock, with Sherlock's wife Leena, are about to look at another 'hound' sighting...where it ate a hiker's heart. When Sherlock realizes said 'hound' is allergic to mistletoe, he knows just who to call. His old Physician and Tutor, the Doctor and Professor.


A/N: Oh wow! It has been 2 years to the day that I published my first story, Reunion, featuring my OC, the Professor, the story that sparked over 50 more to come in just 2 years :') So I thought a really nice way to celebrate, would be to bringing a few different OCs together in one place in a one-shot adventure and this year I decided to do a SuperWhoLock ;) I would recommend, to new readers, to have looked at the Davidson Gospels (Supernatural), the Academic Series (Doctor Who), and the Jackie Holmes Chronicles (Sherlock) to fully understand the characters, their relationship with the main characters and where they fall in this story.

I tried to get John and Castiel in the cover but it ended up looking a mess :( Also, I have this listed as a crossover just between DW and Supernatural because I wanted to do 1 BBC show and the other show as I couldn't get all 3 :(

Michelle Davidson - Mid-season 5  
The Professor - 11th Incarnation, mid-series 6  
Leena Jerrard - Late series 3

~8~ is a scene break

I really hope you like this story. Enjoy! ^-^

I do not own Supernatural, Doctor Who, or Sherlock...of we'd have seen the Doctor pop up in both ;)

~8~

Oh Come On!

"So, find anything?" Michelle asked as she plopped down in front of Sam, setting down the tray of food that she'd gotten at the counter. It was always good, fast food restaurants. They were cheap, filling, and there was always something healthy that Sam could get. She was actually a fan of fast food, though Sam didn't seem to realize why that was. To her, they were so chock full of carbs and calories that it was just perfect for the life of a Hunter. With all they did, all the running and digging and adrenaline and all the exercise they had to keep hunting the monsters they did, fast food was like a godsend when one couldn't afford to buy pasta every day. Sam was of the belief that because it was greasy it was completely unhealthy. She knew that as long as someone was active, it wasn't always that bad.

She'd read a report once of a man who ate 2 cheeseburgers a day from McDonald's since he was a teenager…he was as skinny as a twig and had a heart like a bull, a marathon runner to boot or something. It was the lifestyle that went with the fast food that could kill you and they had more to worry about with werewolves and witches and ghosts trying to kill them than the heart attack that might get them in the future. For one, their life was a living heart attack so they were probably safe for a few decades.

"Sam?" she asked when he just stared at her instead.

Dean rolled his eyes and punched Sam in the shoulder, "Come on Sammy, eyes on the screen and not on Mickey's chest."

Michelle rolled her eyes at that, "Thanks Dean," she said dryly at the same time that Sam shouted, "Dean!"

Michelle laughed at that, "As long as you're looking at MY chest and not fantasizing about Ruby's, I'm fine."

Sam grimaced at that, really NOT wanting to even think of Ruby or her chest or anything about that demon and what she'd led him to do. They were still on the hunt for Lucifer, but they'd hit a snag in their plans. It was one of those points between hunts that they did on the side in an effort to try and keep active and keep sharp while waiting for a break in their research. They'd learned from Dean's time running out in going to hell and Michelle's return from it and Sam's own obsession with Lilith that focus was great, when it wasn't turning into an obsession. There wasn't anything they could do at the moment. They didn't know where Lucifer was or what he was up to, there were no signs of the other Horsemen so it was one of those frustrating moments where all they could do was sit and wait for something to happen, as much as they hated to do it.

"Urg, Mickey, I'm eating," Dean grimaced, speaking through a mouthful of food that he was trying to chew around.

"Yeah, like THAT would stop you," Michelle rolled her eyes at him.

Dean considered it a moment before he nodded at the truth in the statement and took another large bite of his hamburger.

"So?" Michelle looked at Sam pointedly.

"Um, yeah, I think I might have a werewolf sighting actually," Sam turned his laptop around to show her what he'd found.

"A blog?" Michelle frowned at it.

"Whada bog?" Dean asked, an even bigger mouthful in his mouth.

"A BLOG," Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, "It's like an online journal," he explained, "You basically just post your thoughts or interests and other things for people to comment on. This guy," he pointed his plastic fork at the computer, "Was describing a case he and his friend were on."

"A case like cops?"

"More like amateur detectives," Michelle remarked, skimming the screen, "Seems our blogger, John Watson, and his friend Sherlock Holmes, try to investigate crimes and murders that others can't solve. Mysteries."

"Hold on," Dean gave her a look, "Dr Watson and Sherlock Holmes?" he scoffed, "Aren't they the names of those characters from that Doyle guy?"

"Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?" Sam and Michelle looked at him.

"Whatever," Dean rolled his eyes, "Weren't they the druggie sleuths or something?"

"Close enough," Michelle nodded, "Anyway, according to this guy's blog, he thinks someone's read his blog and is trying to imitate one of their past cases."

"Which case?" Dean swallowed another bite.

Michelle looked down, seeing he'd already finished one cheeseburger in about three bites and was onto the second one, before she shook her head, "'The Hound of Baskerville,'" she read, before turning the screen around to show Sam.

Sam squinted reading the case, "Well this one's definitely NOT a werewolf," he nodded slowly, "The date doesn't coincide with the full moon and it wasn't hunting like a real werewolf. Didn't really attack or kill anyone itself, no bodies were viciously mauled, so no missing organs, no wolf hair, nothing."

"Then what was it?"

Michelle popped a fry into her mouth, "Turns out there was a pair of innkeepers who had a really feral dog that they let loose in these moors where there was a rumor of some sort of genetically mutated hound or something running around. They did it to drum up business but this Dr. Watson and Mr. Holmes revealed it was that, coupled with some sort of hallucinogenic concoction in the fog of the moor that was making people think the dog was bigger and more ferocious than it really was."

"Some sort of facility, Baskerville," Sam added, "Was creating bio-weapons and experimenting on them with the animals there. One of their scientists was part of an old experiment that was shut down because the results of the gas they'd made was way too dangerous. I mean like, men going insane and savage dangerous," he looked at his brother, "Like probably the Croatoan Virus but without the demon part."

"Jeez," Dean winced, thinking of that.

"They shut down that experiment but the scientist that was a part of it started it up again in the UK," Michelle finished, "Let it out into the fog when he knew this one kid who actually saw the man murder his father was out looking for evidence, just to discredit the poor kid."

"He was caught though," Sam glimpsed the end of the blog, "Ended up going out with a bang in a minefield around the base when he was cornered by them in the moors."

"Wait," Dean shook his head, "If they were in the middle of the moors and the fog was contaminated, how come they weren't affected by it?"

"They were," Michelle corrected, "Some other girl that was with them, um…" she tilted the screen back to her to try and spot the name, "Jackie, wasn't affected due to a cold. She didn't inhale as much of the fog as the others and was able to get them all covering their noses and mouths in time to not be contaminated," she smiled, reading some of the comments, "Apparently this Jackie girl is Sherlock's girlfriend and…" she laughed, reading some more, "Not many people get how that works."

"Ok, so first attack wasn't a werewolf?" Dean asked, just wanting to be clear.

"No," Sam agreed, "Just a dog."

"So what makes you think the second one is?"

"This," Michelle pointed to the date, "The same date as the full moon last month."

Sam nodded, "I was just about to search the obituaries for the guy," he added, "See what the coroner's report was, if anything was missing."

"You don't have to," Michelle shook her head, "Watson mentions that the heart was missing. Exactly like a werewolf attack."

Dean nodded, that did seem fairly concise with werewolf attacks they'd dealt with in the past, "What makes this Watson guy think someone's copying a past case?" he took another bite of his burger.

"According to his blog, he thinks it's someone with a big dog that's trying to make it seem like there's another hound, mostly because it takes place in Dartmoor to," Sam noted, "He and his partner seem to think that its lingering chemicals in the fog and the flora that are saturating the air or something when it rains."

"Yeah, but there are actually BODIES now."

Michelle shrugged, "He seems to think it might just be an animal that got loose from the Baskerville facility, some new animal or even just one from the moor, a bear or something, that's attacking hikers. Seems a few people have gone missing over a few decades but no bodies till now."

"Yeah," Dean scoffed, "Attacking hikers and specifically removing their hearts?" he gave them a look at that, "Dude's got to be eating crazy flakes to think that's normal."

"Seems like he actually put it out to his blog readers to tell him whether they think it's a hoax or not," Michelle spotted, "He's asking them if he ought to bother going with Sherlock and Jackie to scope the place out. Seems THEY think it's a viable threat or at least something different."

"Yeah, but they probably have no idea that it's a werewolf," Sam shook his head, "How many people out there know, off hand, or from movies that werewolves always eat the heart? They go there, they'll get themselves killed."

Michelle looked at the date of the latest blog entry about the whole event and sighed, "Seems like they're about to then," she pointed at the date, "This was put up only a couple days ago and, from the comments, it seems like they're going to all check it out. The last comment is from a Molly Hooper, 'Good luck guys, hope everything works out.'"

"So they're basically about to walk into a werewolf attack," Dean looked at the date, "Cause the full moon's in about 3 days and if they're still there or just leaving now…"

"They're dead meat," Sam agreed.

"So what do we do?" Michelle looked at them, "Do we head out across the pond?"

"International hunt?" Dean considered it, "Could be interesting…"

"Dean you DO realize that'll mean getting on an airplane right?" Sam looked at him.

Dean blinked, "Damn it!" he huffed, "Can't we just get Cas to pop us over there."

"I'm afraid that is beyond my power at the moment Dean," Castiel spoke, appearing right across from Dean, sitting beside Michelle and, despite being right beside the girl, Michelle remained completely at east while the boys nearly jumped out of their skin.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, before dropping his voice to a whispered hiss, his hand over his heart , "Come on man, we talked about this! A little warning before you pop in!"

Castiel blinked, "My apologies."

Dean let out a long breath, "So you can't get us to England or…" he squinted at the screen, "Dartmoor?"

"Dartmoor is IN England," Sam pointed out.

"No shit Sherlock," Dean quipped back, before grinning at his joke, nodding his head at the blog, making Sam and Michelle roll their eyes at him.

"I don't understand that reference," Castiel tilted his head.

"You don't need to Cas," Michelle patted his arm, "It's only funny in Dean's head."

"Thanks Mickey, see if I laugh at your jokes," Dean grumbled.

"Oh you will," she smirked.

"Doubtful."

Michelle just pulled out her knife, the one she always carried on her, the one she had threatened to castrate him with the first day she'd met him, and stabbed it into the table. Dean shifted in his seat, quickly crossing his leg over the other and lowering his hands to protect a very needed area of his body, thankful that no one else could see them behind the divider of their booth.

"Ha ha," he laughed strainedly.

Michelle smiled and pulled her knife back, "Told you, you would."

"You are planning to journey to England?" Castiel asked them, looking around the table, seemingly confused as to why they suddenly wished to go there.

Michelle nodded, "Possible werewolf sighting."

"But I thought we were searching for God."

"YOU are searching for God," Dean corrected, "And I really would like my necklace back so if you could hurry it up…"

"Look," Sam cut in, "We've hit a brick wall and…"

"Why would you run into a brick wall?" Castiel cut in, "That doesn't seem pleasant."

"It's a figure of speech Cas," Michelle told him.

"Anyway," Sam continued, "We've hit a brick wall in our hunts. We have no leads on Lucifer, there's no sign of any Horsemen activity, God's MIA, and all we have to occupy us till we get a break is hunting. This is the latest hunt."

"Is there no hunt closer to America?" Castiel frowned.

"Sure there are," Dean shrugged, "But we know hunters in America, we could call them in if they were closer. We can't be sure of England and it looks like these three," he nodded at the computer, "Are about to walk into a werewolf attack. If they get attacked and survive now we've got three more werewolves to worry about. They attack others and it'll just spread faster than the Croatoan."

"I know a few Hunters in Europe," Michelle offered, "But the ones in the UK are in other countries right now, or dead, so it's really up to us to get over there and stop an outbreak of lycanthropy."

Castiel nodded slowly, "I'll go with you."

Sam smirked a bit at that, "I thought you were looking for God."

"God created all the earth," Castiel reminded him, "There is an equal chance that he may be somewhere other than America and while I have searched through many countries, I have not travelled to England yet."

"Why not?" Dean eyed him.

"You were searching through the religious locations of the world, weren't you?" Michelle guessed, "Going backwards from oldest religions to now?"

Castiel nodded, "I thought he may have revisited other religious sites."

"What about Stonehenge?" Dean asked, "Isn't that like some sort of shrine or altar or something?"

Michelle shook her head, "It's a calendar," she told them, "When it was fully constructed it was more like a giant sundial but for days of the year and holidays."

"Oh," Dean nodded.

"There's actually been a lot of speculation about that and recent research…" Sam began.

"Dude," Dean cut in, "As long as it's not about to turn into some sort of sacrificial spot for a witch's spell, I don't care."

Michelle shook her head at that before she looked at the others, "So are we doing this? Are we going to Dartmoor?"

Sam nodded, "Looks like it."

Dean grinned, "Team Freewill doing international."

Michelle stood, "I'll go make some calls."

"Who to?" Sam called as she moved to head out.

"Airlines," she said, "We're going to need tickets won't we?"

Dean blinked as though just recalling this really would mean he'd have to get on a plane, "Cas…" he turned to the angel, "You really can't even zap just ME there?"

Castiel blinked, "I would actually prefer to see how you humans travel," he admitted, "What is a plane?"

Sam just laughed and shook his head as Dean let his head fall down onto the small table they were sitting at and shook his head, "I've got it covered Dean," Sam patted him on the back before standing, "You'll be fine."

"Oh yeah, how?" Dean merely turned his head, still rested on the table to crack an eye open at his brother.

"We just have to make sure you're calm for the flight," Sam told him, "And I know just what you need."

"Copious amounts of alcohol?" Castiel guessed.

Sam laughed, "He'd love that, but no, we need him hangover free when we land."

"Then what?" Dean shook his head.

"Handful of Valium and you'll feel like you're flying before we even get on the plane."

Dean just closed his eyes and started to bang his head on the table.

~8~

Sherlock was walking through the woods with Leena beside him as John followed behind them, grumbling under his breath and squinting at the sunlight. They were back in Dartmoor, heading into the moors to try and find some more evidence of the second Hound sighting. They'd gotten a call from Henry Knight about it all a month ago. He'd sent them a police report about an attack in the moors. Apparently this wasn't the first attack but it was the most vicious. Sherlock had actually sent Molly out there to take a picture of the body for them, wanting to see what was different about this one than the other.

Periodically, through the years, people had gone missing in the moors, it was common enough that when poor Henry had said his father died from an animal attack, people believed him…at first. When he started going on that it was a giant hound that had done it, that was when things got a little less believable. There hadn't been any disappearances associated with the case from Henry though, except for his father and they'd determined that was actually a human attacking him instead of some sort of vicious, genetically enhanced hound. But when bodies started to turn up in the last few months, the rumors of the Hound had returned again. Henry, of course, knew there was no real dog anymore, the innkeepers really had put their dog down this time as it had been shot and dying the last time they'd been there.

So when bodies were found, he'd immediately called them in as, if it wasn't the hound, what was it? HE was under the impression it was a copycat. Perhaps that tour guide had gotten a dog of his own and let it loose into the woods? Maybe he'd taken it a bit far and starved the poor dog before letting it go, making the attacks justified? It fit, in his mind, so he couldn't understand why Sherlock and Leena both seemed equally curious to investigate. It was a dog, in Dartmoor, where the Hound had been, close to Baskerville, and it was frightening people. It was likely the same thing, only the sightings of the 'hound' were a little more frequent.

One hiker had reported seeing something in the woods and run off last month, he'd been with a partner, the body Molly had gone to look at. They'd been walking in the dark and heard a howl. They'd thought it was just local kids having fun at them as it was still a bit of a legend, the hound. It had been a legend for quite a few years, even before Henry and his father had been attacked. It was just more an old wives tale till Henry started insisting it was real. THEN people started to make a big thing about it and claim they saw it or heard it or what have you. The two hikers had thought it was just a hoax…till they'd apparently seen the giant hound. They'd not known what to do at that point, whether to run or tell the kiddies to shove off.

And then the hound attacked. It lunged at one of the hikers, tore into him, and sent the other running for his life. He'd been chased, according to the reports, and tripped as the hound was nearing him. He'd scrambled up and run off, past a bush and back to a sort of trail and, when he'd looked back, the hound was gone. Just…gone. No sign of him at all. By the time the man had made it back to the town, it was daylight and they'd sent a search party out for the other hiker…and found the body.

HE was quite convinced it was just another dog on the loose, Sherlock and Leena seemed to think that the fact that the last hiker, the state he'd been left in, torn apart, almost as though it had been eaten, was enough to drag them back to Dartmoor. He didn't understand it though, the only slightly abnormal part about this, the only part that was really different than the first hound, was that this one had apparently eaten the heart of the hiker. It had taken big chunks of vital organs sure, but the heart was entirely missing.

He was sure it was just a very feral dog so this was just a rather big waste of time to be sure.

"Sherlock," John called as he followed the duo into the woods, "Why are we doing this again?"

"Because your blog told us to," Sherlock responded.

John rolled his eyes, "Since when do you ever do anything my blog tells you to?"

Leena laughed, "He meant that's why YOU'RE here John," she remarked, "You could have stayed back with Mary."

"Please don't," John shook his head, "Don't…don't mention her ok, I'm just…I'm still trying to…to work out what to do."

It had been…quite the shock to John to realize that his wife was some sort of expert assassin. They'd only just gotten married, Mary had only been a month or two pregnant when he'd gotten involved with investigating Charles Augustus Magnussen and it all fell apart. Sherlock had been shot, Leena had been devastated, and he'd found out that Mary had been the one to shoot him. Sherlock and Leena had nearly forced him to be confronted with the truth and he had been furious. That had been about two months ago that he'd seen her shoot a coin in the air and realized what she was. She'd given him a flashdrive with her history on it, given him the choice to look at her past and either accept or reject her and she was convinced he'd reject her.

He hadn't looked at the information yet, he wasn't sure he wanted to, but he was trying to deal with it all. He was trying to be there for her as she was pregnant with his child, but other than that, he hadn't really spoken to her. He was trying to cope. It was one reason why he was on this trip, just…to get away for a moment, to have it be just the three of them again, solving mysteries, hoping it might help him clear his mind about Mary.

"We're here because there is something about this that doesn't make sense," Sherlock remarked.

"Like what?" John shook his head, "Look, Sherlock, it's just a copycat."

"I don't think so," Leena shook her head, "I made a preliminary profile of the case when it happened and everything that's going on right now doesn't fit."

"Well wouldn't it not, if it's a different person? Different dog?"

Leena shook her head, "If it was a copycat, it would follow as closely to the original terror as possible. For it to be killing?" she glanced back at him, "It may be a different dog but this would be an entirely different mental state for someone to send a dog like that out here. It goes beyond just publicity."

John sighed, "So why are we even in the moors, shouldn't we go meet the hiker that escaped firs tor something?"

"No," Sherlock said, heading up a small hill, past some trees, "The police report was quite detailed, they even had the decency to provide a map with it. We know exactly where the attack happened."

"You should know by now John that Sherwood looks at the scene first before dealing with the people."

"I hate people," he muttered.

"Oh do you Mr. Holmes?" Leena nudged him, "And what do you call me then?"

Sherlock looked at her, a hint of a smile on his face, "You're not people," he took her hand, "You're Mrs. Holmes."

Leena smiled at that and looked down, blushing, John shook his head as he watched them. He was both happy and sad about having come on this trip. He knew that he should expect things like this, Sherlock was a different person around Leena, which made sense, he'd known the girl more than 20 years, he was bound to act differently. He knew that they'd be close as well, having just got married mere months ago. And he was happy for them, he was, Sherlock was the sort of man who needed someone in his life like he and Leena were. But all the same, it still hurt to see two people who had married so soon after him and Mary (literally the next day) and see them be happy while he and his own wife were struggling just to look at each other without starting to shout at each other.

"The crime scene, John," Sherlock continued, "I the most crucial piece of evidence and, given this attack happened one month ago, it's bound to be contaminated by nature and other trespassers and by the idiot police poking around. However some grain of evidence must still remain and…"

"If I can get a good look at the area, I can get a geographical profile going," Leena agreed, "It'll help with cross checking the other places the past attacks have happened in and try to work out the mindset of what's going on. That's another thing that doesn't quite make sense," she added, "The locations that all the other hikers and locals went missing, they all have similar qualities, it's like someone planned them or was able to lure them there to have the hound attack."

"So it IS a person guiding the hound then?" John asked, "It's not just a hound loose in the woods?"

"It doesn't appear so, ah!" Sherlock cheered, hopping onto a log, "Here," he began to gesture out with his hand at the surrounding area, "This is where it happened."

Leena stepped up onto the log beside him, John preferring to step around to the side of it, looking at the area. Sherlock hadn't been kidding when he said the area would be contaminated with nature and other things. It had been only a month but it was that transition period of the year where the leaves were just starting to fall off the trees at times, it was covering the floor with a single layer of leaves, covering up any evidence.

Leena slowly moved onto the ground, her and John spreading out along the edge of the area, Sherlock watching them closely from the log as they examined the bushes for broken branches, the ground for any dropped objects, the trees for any scratches. There was hardly anything now, a month later.

"Hold on," John called, crouching down by a low bush, a sort of small patch of pricklers before it, "I think…I've got fur here Sherlock," he turned reaching out with a small set of tweezers he kept in a tiny medical kit on his person, picking up a small tuft of what looked like fur or hair, definitely some sort of shag from a dog of some sort.

Leena came over with Sherlock, the two of them eyeing the tuft closely, Sherlock pulling out his magnifying glass to peer more intently at it, "Is that some sort of dog hair?" Leena squinted, "It's definitely not a squirrel or some other fox hair or something."

"No," Sherlock frowned, "I've started a bit of research on the hair fibers of different animals and…"

"Just tell us what animal it is Sherlock," John cut in, knowing how he could ramble.

Sherlock straightened, mock-affronted, and stated, "It's wolf hair."

"Wolf hair?"

"What's a wolf doing in these parts?" Leena looked around, frowning, not doubting Sherlock for a moment.

"Hang on," John scoffed, "_Wolf_ hair?" he shook his head, "Wolf as in 'ahooo!'" he mimicked a wolf howl.

"Precisely," Sherlock nodded, turning to look around, "But why attack here…"

Leena looked down, and then to the left, "The hiker said that he ran that way," she pointed, slowly starting to make her way in that direction, "He went back the way he came, and was running…" she passed a large rock to the side, "He passed this rock and fell down just about here…" she gestured to the area as the men followed her, "Got back up and kept going…" she stepped past a bush and onto a small makeshift path, "He turned around…and the wolf was gone. Stay there," she called when she saw them about to follow her past where the man fell to where she was, they were still in eyesight, it wasn't all that much of a distance really, just a few feet, 20 at the very most, "What's changed?" she shook her head, "What is it between there and here that would make the wolf just disappear?"

"Maybe it got scared?" John shrugged, glancing at Sherlock as he started to slowly head towards the bush, "Caught scent of another animal and realized he was in its territory and ran off?"

"Or perhaps it was allergic to something in the area," Sherlock mused, looking at the bush intently.

Leena frowned and walked over to him, seeing him pull something off the branches of the bush and hold it up, "Mistletoe?" she recognized the plant.

"A wolf that's allergic to mistletoe?" John laughed at that, "That's ridiculous Sherlock, why don't you tell me what's really going on?"

"It's not quite as ridiculous as you might think John," Sherlock remarked, before turning to Leena, holding up the mistletoe, "You know what sort of _wolf _is allergic to mistletoe."

Leena frowned a moment, trying to recall…before she gasped, "Oh my god."

Sherlock nodded, "We need to get out of here quickly," he determined, taking Leena's hand and turning to lead her off as she pulled out her phone and started to make a call.

"What?" John rushed after them, "Why?"

"Because if that wolf is what I know it is," Sherlock began, "Then there is more danger here than you realize."

"And if it's the same sort of wolf…" Leena took a breath, "We'll need more help," she turned and handed Sherlock the phone as it started ringing.

"What sort of help?" John asked.

But Sherlock ignored him, waiting till the phone was picked up, "Answerphone," he muttered to Leena.

"Always is with them," she mused.

"With who?" John shook his head.

"Doctor?" Sherlock began, leaving a message, "It's Sherlock, I'm with Leena. We need you and the Professor to meet us as quickly as you can."

Leena took the phone, looking at her watch, "Dartmoor, England, September the 3rd, 2013. The home of Jonathan Brown. We'll be there around 12pm. Thanks "

John looked at them oddly as Leena ended the call, "Who did you just call?"

"Old friends," Leena smiled.

"What old friends?"

"My tutor and physician," Sherlock answered, "Now come on, we only have 1 hour to make it back to Mr. Brown's home."

~8~

"Doctor, we need to stop," the Professor said as they ran into the TARDIS, shutting the door behind them in an effort to avoid the blasts of the Judoon trying to kill them.

They'd gone to the Shadow Proclamation in an attempt to get them to agree to search for Melody Pond, the poor baby having been kidnapped by Madame Kovarian. They were regretting it now, not having done more to go after the little girl in the orphanage but they'd lost track of her, she'd disappeared and not even the TARDIS could track her down. They'd gone back to the orphanage, to the warehouse, to the White House, to every place they could think, wanting to get the little girl back so they could at least give Amy and Rory their child if they couldn't find the baby her. They were failing miserably to do it though.

They were trying to find Kovarian but she was just…invisible. They didn't know what it was, if she had perhaps some sort of shielding hiding her or if she was using her future knowledge of them to try and keep out of their path, whatever it was, they were running themselves ragged trying to find her. And it was alarming them both that they couldn't. They knew the chance of finding Melody at all were slim, the universe was a big place and Kovarian had proven she had all of time as well as space to deal in and that made it infinitely harder to track the baby down. The only comfort they had was that, if they failed, River Song was proof enough that no matter what they did, if their future was to fail or succeed, she would turn out alright in the end…

Well, you know, except for being in jail for murder.

But besides that she was a rather well adjusted young woman.

At least they thought so…but given that the Doctor was a madman and she'd essentially been a brainwashed soldier, they probably weren't the best sources to determine what was sane or not.

Still, they were trying so hard and they just kept failing. It was at the point where they were nearing the end of their patience, something rather hard to do to a Time Lord…unless it involved watching paint dry as the Doctor had proven…and they'd gone to the Judoon. The Doctor had, in a fit of anger and irritation, insulted them and they'd ended up running for their lives. Not that they minded, they loved the running, but they needed allies right now, not more enemies. And the Judoon were as close to police as they could get, who else did you file a missing person's report to on an intergalactic level than the intergalactic thugs, er, _police_.

"But we can't," he looked at her, "Melody and Amy and Rory are counting on us."

"And we'll be no use to them dead from letting something slip or worn from exhaustion," she argued, "We need a clear head, we need…something, something to distract us…"

"Well…" he began with a saucy grin.

"I said to avoid exhaustion Theta," she nudged him, blushing slightly, knowing where his mind had gone at the thoughts of 'distraction.'

He sighed, "You're right," he nodded, "If we keep going like this we'll wear ourselves out and we won't be able to help or focus or be useful."

"Maybe…one trip," she offered, "Just one, somewhere, anywhere, where we can just…not think about the Ponds or about Melody. I think we need just one trip to let our minds rest. We're both rubbish at focusing on a problem too long. We start to get frustrated and we miss things and you get all ear-achey…"

"And your trigger finger gets all itchy," he smirked at her.

"Yes that too," she laughed, the two of them sliding down the doors of the TARDIS and sitting on the floor, leaning on each other, "So…where do you want to go?"

He hummed lightly, resting his head to hers as she linked her arm through his, hugging his arm, "We could go back to Midnight."

She wrinkled her nose at that, making him laugh and give her a peck on it, "No," she shook her head, "Don't have the fondest memories of that."

"Yes," he agreed, "There's always the honeymoon planet we dropped Rory and Amy off on."

"But we already had our honeymoon."

"Could have a second go at it."

"It's only been about 3 years Theta, I don't think humans do second honeymoons till their 25th or something, which for us would probably be our 100th."

"So?" he shrugged, "No one has to know how long we've been married. I've loved you far longer than 100 years Kata."

"I know," she smiled at that, "I've loved you longer though," she teased.

"I love you more," he countered.

"Doubtful," she half-sang.

He chuckled at that, "Where would YOU want to go?" he asked her.

She hummed this time, thinking on it, "How about we go…there," she nodded at the console.

He looked at her, then it, then back at her, "Ok…but where will we be heading once we get there?"

"I don't know," she gave him a sideways glance, "Perhaps the answerphone will solve that."

"The…answerphone?"

She laughed and stood, reaching out a hand to help tug him up to follow her to the console where he could see there was a blinking light for the answerphone going off. He reached out to stop her when she moved to push it to hear the message, making her frown, "What is it?"

"What if it's Pond One and Pond Two again?" he asked, a small frown on his face.

She smiled, "Then we listen to them and…depending on what the message says and how they sound and decide what to do from there. For all we know, dear, they could be in danger or it might not even be them. It could be one of those intergalactic telemarketers again."

The Doctor sighed, "I'm not sure which is worse," he grumbled.

The Professor just kissed his cheek, "Ready?"

He nodded and she pushed the button, what they heard next was not something they were expecting.

"Doctor?" they looked at each other, recognizing that voice, they'd only heard it a few months ago, "It's Sherlock, I'm with Leena. We need you and the Professor to meet us as quickly as you can."

"Dartmoor," Leena's voice added, though that was one they hadn't heard in quite some time, "England, September the 3rd, 2013. The home of Jonathan Brown. We'll be there around 12pm. Thanks."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" the Doctor started to grin.

"It's not quite a relaxing distraction…but I do miss Shirley, Jerry, and Mikey," she nodded.

"Well then it's settled," he rushed to the other side of the console, "Dartmoor it is!"

"Hold on Doctor," the Professor laughed, moving over to him, "We should probably find out who this Jonathan Brown is first and why they need us there. Wouldn't look good for us to appear there without knowing what's going on. Especially not with Shirley involved."

"Yes, yes, right," he nodded, the two of them starting to look up information in the datacore, running searches on Dartmoor as well and anything about John Brown that might pop up in news reports.

"I think I've got something," the Professor called, skimming an article, "It's from last month, according to Leena's record. An animal, a large dog from what the survivor, Mr. Brown said, attacked in Dartmoor and left a hiker dead and viciously torn apart. And it's not the first. Apparently people have gone missing in the moors quite often but this was the first time a body was recovered," she typed in a few commands to bring up what the TARDIS could find on Mr. Brown himself, his history, school records, a few other odds and ends.

"Ooh nasty," the Doctor grimaced, seeing the picture attached to the news clipping, "And it's…heart was missing? That's not good. That's very, very not good."

The Professor nodded, "And look at the date," she pointed to it, "It was a full moon Doctor," she looked at the man, "Name me one creature on earth that can be found to eat hearts on the full moon that looks like a large dog."

The Doctor rubbed his face, "Definitely not going to be relaxing," he remarked, both of them all too aware of what the creature was, "But what's it doing in Dartmoor?" he shook his head, "That's what I don't understand."

"What I don't understand is how that person survived," the Professor shook her head, "You told me about what happened the last time you met a creature like that. You said there was hardly anything left of…"

"There wasn't," he agreed, frowning at the report, "There's something not right about this and it's staring us in the face again."

"It always does," she sighed, tilting her head at the news report, "Well we're not going to get anywhere by sitting here and staring at a news clipping. We should go meet them at Mr. Brown's."

"Yes," he nodded, moving to the console, putting in the time and date while the Professor took care of the location.

~8~

Sherlock, Leena, and John had waited as long as they could for the Doctor and Professor, only for noon to roll around and them not to show. John had remarked that it was a bit much to expect someone to drop what they were doing and make it to Dartmoor in an hour no matter where they were. Sherlock had just seemed irritated they weren't there and grumbled under his breath about how 'they always come when I call because I NEVER call.' Leena had done her best to just remind him that that Doctor bloke was often late and that, if they weren't there come morning the latest, she'd give them another call. So, 2 in the afternoon would find the trio standing before a red house with a white door, Sherlock knocking on it. It was the home of one, Jonathan Brown, the hiker that had escaped the attack on his partner to see an older gentleman in a tan jumper and black pants, a bit of a scruffy beard to him, ginger hair that was graying.

"Yes?" the man asked, looking at them, "Can I help you?"

Sherlock held out his hand to shake the man's, "Sherlock Holmes, Leena Jerrard, and John Watson," he introduced, "I believe Henry spoke to you?"

"Oh!" the man's eyes widened, "You're the detectives! Yes, please, come in, come in," he turned and stepped to the side, allowing them into his house, ready to answer all the questions he could.

"Thank you," Leena smiled for Sherlock as the man just strode into the house eyeing the hiking gear standing by the door, sniffing deeply, before she followed him in.

"Yeah, thanks," John nodded, following them in, Jonathan shutting the door behind them.

~8~

A doorbell rang to the home of one Jonathan Brown just a little past supper, around 6 pm, and the door opened, three people standing on the other side, dressed in suits, the two men in ties while the one woman had a white shirt.

"Jonathan Brown?" Dean began.

"Yes?" he frowned, eyeing them.

"Agents Murdoch, Case, and Stiles," Sam introduced, nodding at Dean, Michelle, and himself, "FBI," they held up their IDs.

"FBI?" the man frowned.

"Yes sir," Michelle nodded, knowing that FBI was the only IDs they had that would be able to get them on international waters, "We were sent here to investigate the hound sighting due to the experimental procedures being done in Baskerville."

"We'd like to ask you a few questions if you don't mind?" Sam looked at him.

"But…I already answered those other detective's questions," the man shook his head.

"It'll only take a minute of your time sir," Dean promised.

Brown took a breath but nodded, "I suppose…" before he stepped aside to let them in.

~8~

An excited knocking echoed through the house of one Jonathan Brown, followed intermittently with the ringing of a doorbell. If the owner hadn't known better, he'd have thought that it was a child trying to get his attention…so he was rather surprised when he opened the door to see a floppy haired man in a tweed jacket and bowtie standing beside a woman in a skirt and jean jacket only a quarter of an hour before midnight, which made him even more irritated as he'd nearly been asleep.

"Hello!" the Doctor greeted, holding up his psychic paper, "John and Katherine Smith," he gestured between them, "Ministry of Zoology."

"We'd just like to ask you a few questions about the hound?" the Professor asked.

Brown just looked at them a moment, looked between them, before shaking his head and closing the door slowly in their faces, muttering 'No more questions!' under his breath.

The Doctor looked at the Professor, "You know, I don't think we're the first people to want to talk to him."

The Professor just shook her head at him, "Come on, we need to find Shirley, it's nearly midnight and, chances are, he's gone and wandered into the moors himself."

The Doctor nodded and wound his arm around her waist as they headed off to the bright blue box sitting right at the end of the path to the door.

~8~

It wasn't every day that the Winchester brothers found themselves travelling abroad in the sense of somewhere out of America. Oh they'd been to Canada twice, Mexico once, but going 'across the pond' as Michelle had called it wasn't something they'd ever thought to do. To them, America was home, America was their turf and it was the area they were meant to protect, let the foreign Hunters handle all their foreign affairs and demons and monsters. But, realizing that they might have a potential lycanthropy outbreak on their hands, they'd grabbed their FBI badges so they wouldn't have to forge any other documents besides a passport, and headed off. Getting into Canada and Mexico had been a little too easy, given what the governments wanted folk to believe. But this time…this was more serious, this time they knew they'd be searched more thoroughly going overseas.

Michelle though, had luckily had her passports all in order, legal passports, for them to base their own on. They'd actually forgotten that quite a few of her hunts with her parents had been with them in other countries, for major holidays apparently. She'd been to deserts and forests and churches and graveyards all across the world in the years she'd had with her parents. She knew enough foreign languages that it would have helped…had they been going anywhere other than England of course.

They hadn't thought of doing that, not even as a 'vacation' of sorts, to go somewhere out of the country. They could hardly afford to rent a non-skeezy motel room for one night and they were expected to pay for a plane ticket? But now they knew Michelle was apparently loaded and had more than enough to spare though they'd resolved never to beg from money from her. They'd spent their entire lives conning others out of their money and, they could admit, it was more than a little fun to do it. So they only used Michelle's money when they desperately needed it, like buying plane tickets to England. Castiel had offered to come with as he was…curious to try human transportation, like a plane, though he was a bit alarmed that humans actually strapped themselves into metal boxes and shot themselves into the sky where they could easily crash and burn and be drowned in the sea at any given time…which had NOT helped Dean relax any. The man had had to be quite…out of it as a result of that trip (Michelle had wanted to punch him out and then watch him freak out when he woke up on the plane, but Sam had opted for medication). Dean was so drugged he'd started falling asleep on Castiel's shoulder (which had been doubly amusing to Michelle and Sam to see Cas ON the plane as it wasn't often one saw an angel sitting on one). The angel had later had to ask how to remove drool from a trench coat Dean had been THAT out of it.

But there they were, all in England, in one piece. They'd fund the home of Mr. Brown in Dartmoor and talked to him about what he saw. From how he described the beast, it definitely seemed like it was a werewolf. The way it acted, hunted, the remains it left behind, the lunar cycle, it had all led to just one thought in the minds of the Hunters…they would need some heavy duty silver weapons. There had been one odd thing that Michelle had picked up on from their questions of Mr. Brown, how the man escaped. According to him, he was running, tripped and SHOULD have been eaten, but ran onto a path and suddenly…the wolf was gone. That had to mean one of two things, either there was some sort of silver hidden in the woods, which would mean that the locals knew there was likely a werewolf in the area or that there might be a Hunter nearby, or something Michelle had speculated. There were likely vegetation in England that didn't grow in America or didn't grow a lot of and, what if there was a plant or a tree or some sort of flower that could keep a werewolf back? That would be something they would need to know for future hunts and to tell other Hunters about.

So they'd grabbed their lights, strapped on their weapons, and gone a-werewolf hunting in the moors that very night. It was the second night of the full moon cycle, they would only have that night or tomorrow night to make sure that they could get this creature down or they'd be stuck there another month, or need to get some other Hunter back to England for that time. That was one thing they hated about the wolves, that they only came about at night, during a full moon, when the person changing was asleep. It meant they had to hunt in the dark and, while they were used to it, while it was a part of the job, only having small little flashlights made it hard to see roots and rocks and trees and bushes mid run. The light of the full moon _did_ help a bit, but it wasn't nearly enough when a werewolf was after you.

"Is this where it happened?" Dean asked, looking around at a small area where Sam and Michelle had stopped, looking at a map that Mr. Brown had personally helped point out where it had happened.

"Think so," Sam nodded.

Castiel just turned and looked around, "I don't see a werewolf."

Michelle laughed, "That could mean it's hunting somewhere else or that the person hasn't fallen asleep yet."

"I don't understand how humans can turn into monsters in their sleep."

"Wait till you get a girlfriend Cas," Dean patted him on the shoulder as he stepped past him, "Don't ever wake her up in the middle of her sleeping or you'll see the monster within."

Michelle slapped Dean on the back of the head as she passed him, "And that's why YOU don't have a girlfriend Dean."

"I don't have one because no woman could handle all this," he gestured at himself with a smirk.

"If you could hold in your ego trip for a second Dean," Sam called, "I think I found some hair."

The small group gathered over by a bush, seeing a small tuft of hair that Sam had picked up, "Wolf hair," Dean nodded.

Michelle reached down and took it from Sam, moving her light under her arm as she examined the hair with it, frowning at the color of it. It was reddish, with a bit of a lighter color, like gray in it. She could have sworn she'd seen it before, that exact shade.

"Does that mean it's nearby?" Castiel wondered.

"No," Sam shook his head, "This looks like it's old…maybe from yesterday."

The four of them spun around when they heard a howl in the distance.

"It sounds like it's nearby," Castiel remarked.

"Yeah, thanks Cas," Dean rolled his eyes, he and Sam pulling out their handguns, each with a set of silver bullets in it, Michelle grabbing her shotgun off her back with her own silver bullets as well.

They slowly started to creep though the woods, heading for the sound of the howl, able see the path that Brown had spoken of next to a bush with a bunch of mistletoe stuck to it…when three lights appeared running down it, jumping back into the woods from the path and stopping short when they came face to face with quite a few guns pointed at them. They could make out two men, one tall and one a bit shorter, and a blonde girl with them. The shorter man pulled a gun on them too while the taller man pulled the girl back behind him slightly, glaring at them.

"What are you doing here?" the shorter man demanded, the girl glancing back over her shoulder at something, "You're American."

"Yeah, and?" Dean countered, holding his gun up higher, "Who the hell are you, shorty? Some sort of Hobbit?"

"I believe as there are a majority of guns pointed at US," the taller man remarked, "It would be polite for you to tell us who YOU are and why you're holding us hostage."

"You're not hostages," Michelle shook his head, lowering her gun as Sam did as well, nudging Dean to do the same.

"We're FBI," Sam offered, the three of them pulling out their IDs.

The blonde girl frowned and stepped forward, taking Dean's and looking at it intently, "Very nicely done for a fake ID," she remarked, smirking at them, "But I really AM FBI," she pulled out her own ID, tending to keep it on her just in case, and holding it up, "Special Agent Jacqueline Jerrard of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, Liaison for the British Government."

Sam, Dean, and Michelle looked at each other…only for Cas to lean over, "I believe she knows you're lying," he whispered loudly.

"Yeah, thanks Cas," Dean rolled his eyes, "So why's the FBI roaming around here then?"

The girl looked at him, "You're really going to demand why WE are here when you just showed a FBI agent your fake FBI badges?"

"Look," Sam cut in, trying not to get them arrested or deported or whatever till they'd dealt with the werewolf, "We're…um…animal rights," he supplied, "We were vacationing and heard about the hound sighting and we thought maybe it was someone trying to starve the poor thing and make it feral."

"And what," the shorter man scoffed, "You thought you could sneak in and capture it, nurse it back to health?"

"Oh please, John," the taller man rolled his eyes, "Not even you are that dim as to fall for such a blatant lie. They're obviously not animal rights."

"What makes you say that?" Dean's eyes narrowed in suspicion, not seeing John groan at the question or the blonde start to smirk.

The taller man stepped closer, eyeing him intently, "Your belt strap is leather, meaning you don't care about wearing animal skins, as is your jacket. Your breath reeks of cheeseburgers so you have no qualms with eating meat. Given your gut," his gaze flickered down, "You eat nothing but fast food if you can help it. Disgusting habit…"

"Keep on point Sherwood," the blonde called.

"Yes," he nodded, "Your clothes are rather worn and old, you don't have many and the ones you do you're careful to repair. They're wrinkled in what seems a permanent manner, you sleep in them often and travel in them for days on end. You live the life of a traveler, a squatter, constantly moving and travelling with no set home to stay in. The boy beside you is your brother, younger brother despite him being quite a great deal taller than you. You stepped in front of him when you saw us coming," he added, seeing Dean open his mouth, "Indicates a protective quality. The girl beside you is a companion, likely a friend, you didn't lower your gun till she nudged you to do so, you respect her but you didn't immediately leap to protect her so not your sister then. You're self taught with weapons given your grip on your guns," he glanced between the two men, "I'd guess you drop them often, however the girl," he looked at Michelle, "Her grip is firm, much like John's," he gestured back at John, the two men and Michelle looking at the grasp of his gun and hers even as they hung by their sides, nearly identical in grip, "So she has some sort of military experience. Her posture though would indicate she saw no active duty or had professional training, so likely a family member that taught her, statistically the father's more likely," he turned his attention back to Dean, "Your father raised you as well, given your mannerisms, I'd guess he was a rather harsh man as you respond instantly with expected violence or threat. Your brother though, has seen you get in more trouble than you can handle and constantly tries to prevent it, as in telling us you were animal rights to prevent us alerting the authorities. Your use of guns indicates a tendency to use them as does your tensing posture indicates the drive to fight. You're hardly animal rights, if anything I'd say you were hunters of some sort. I'd also assume that you recently lost a piece of jewelry," he looked at Dean, "A necklace."

"How the hell…" Dean gaped at him.

"You shifted right when you lowered your gun, as though to touch something around your neck but stopped when you remembered it wasn't there," the man shrugged, "It's elementary deduction really."

"Hold on," Michelle stepped forward, "Deductions?" she eyed them closer, shining her light on them, "You're John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, and Jackie Jerrard, aren't you?"

"The ones from the blogs?" Dean looked at her.

"You've seen my website," Sherlock started to smirk.

"I got through the first example of ash before I fell asleep," Dean smirked back at him, making Sherlock's eyes narrowed.

"We um…don't really deal much in different kinds of ash," Sam offered.

"No you don't do you," Leena eyed them, "You're into something far worse if you need to forge an FBI badge. And you're here for the hound so…"

She was cut off suddenly when the howl sounded again, much louder than before.

"It's getting nearer," Castiel looked up in the direction the howl came from.

"Ok, you three, get the hell out of here," Dean turned to the trio, "Go!"

"We're in the middle of a case," Sherlock shook his head.

"Yeah, well your case is about to tear you apart and eat your heart," Sam told him, "You want your girlfriend to get involved in that."

Michelle shook her head, "She's his wife," she corrected, "Wedding ring," she nodded at the girl's hand, "She's not going to leave him," she looked at Sam.

"Knew it," Sherlock smirked, "You're the giant's girlfriend," he looked at Leena, "The short one's instinct to protect her would have been stronger if she were his intended instead."

"Look," John cut in, "Speaking of protection, YOU were the one how said this hound was more dangerous than you thought Sherlock. We should really go."

"Yes," Michelle nodded, "All of you three need to get out of here now. Leave this to us."

Sherlock paused for a moment, looking at them again, "You came here for the purpose of looking for the hound," he eyed their guns, "You're clearly prepared to hunt it…" he blinked, "Do you know what it is?"

"Do YOU?" Dean countered.

"More than you might think," Leena remarked.

"Look, whatever you think you know, it's wrong," Sam shook his head, "You have to go!"

Michelle looked over, the howling was getting closer, "Go, run, we'll cover you," she told them.

"We're safer here," Sherlock shook his head, "The close we are to the mistletoe the better."

"Mistletoe?" Dean scoffed, "Look Chuckles, either you three run, now, or you're all going to die."

"Too late!" Michelle shouted, hearing the howl a moment before a large black dog-like beast leapt out at them, she fired her gun, making it twist in the air and fall to the ground beside them, rolling back up to snarl at them.

Sam rushed forward and fired at it again, making it take off into the woods, "Come on!" he shouted, rushing after the beast with Dean, Michelle, and Castiel.

"No!" Sherlock called, "You don't understand!"

"We need to stop them!" Leena gasped, taking Sherlock's hand and pulling him after the group as they chased the hound.

"Sherlock!" John shouted, "Jackie! What are you doing!?" he cried, darting after them, all of them running till they reached the same area that the last hiker had been found in, seeing Dean, Michelle, and Sam standing there, Castiel getting up from the ground where it appeared he'd been tossed.

"Sammy!" Dean called to Sam.

"I don't see him Dean," he reported, "Michelle?"

"My side's clear," Michelle answered.

Dean slowly started to edge back to Castiel, "Cas, you alright?"

"That was not pleasant," Castiel groaned as he stood.

Dean laughed and slapped him on the back.

"This is a trap," Leena called as they joined them, all of them far too aware they'd been lured into an area that was familiar to the creature.

"We need to get back to the mistletoe," Sherlock told them, "It'll keep us protected until…"

"Until what?" Dean scoffed.

But Sherlock couldn't answer as the howl sounded again and the hound jumped out before them, growling at them before lunging.

"Get down!" Michelle shouted, firing at the creature as the others hit the ground.

"Ok, run!" Sam turned, helping his brother up, "Go, go, go!" he started to push them the other way, opposite from the direction the mistletoe was in.

"The other way!" Sherlock yelled, but he couldn't turn as the hunters and Castiel were behind them, urging them on, firing back at the hound as it gave chase.

"Just keep going!" Dean pushed him on.

"Stop, stop!" Leena gasped when they managed to get a short distance ahead of the hound, having passed a small bush of mistletoe in it, but the wolf just leapt to the side and was going around it, "Listen!"

"We don't have time!" Sam shook his head…but then they heard it…a funny sort of wheezing sound.

"There!" Sherlock pointed, "Go!" and pushed them on towards a bright blue, police telephone box with a blinking light on the top, that was just…sitting in the middle of the woods.

"Where the hell did that come from!?" Dean gaped.

Suddenly the doors popped open and a man in a tweed jacket and bowtie was standing there, a woman in a jean jacket stepping out, "Cab for Mr. and Mrs. Holmes?" the man grinned.

"You're late!" Leena shouted.

"Really?" the man frowned and glanced at his watch, "It was 12 am, wasn't it?"

"PM!"

"In, in, in!" Sherlock just urged Leena on, helping her in first, the others dashing in, only for Dean who was the last one there, to trip on a root and drop his gun with a grunt.

He turned on his back, seeing the wolf lunging right for him…

When the girl in the jean jacket stepped up beside him and fired a small gun-like device in her hand at the beast, sending it flying back with a blast of light. He looked up at her as she held out a hand to him, hefting him up all on her own and shoving him back towards the box before she shut the doors behind her.

"Shirley!" the woman cheered, rushing over to Sherlock and hugging him, "How are you? And Jerry!" she hugged Leena as well, "We're so sorry we missed the wedding. Never got the invite," she gave them a pointed look.

"WE didn't even see the invite," Leena countered, giving the woman tight hug, "But thank you both for your wedding gift, it was lovely."

"Yes," Sherlock nodded, actually smiling as she shook the floppy-haired man's hand, "I needed a new blowtorch."

"I thought you might, I thought you might," the man patted him on the shoulder.

"What…" John began…staring at the two people. A floppy haired brunette man with green eyes, in a tweed jacket, braces, and bowtie, standing with his arm around a woman that was wearing a white skirt, jean jacket, with strawberry blonde hair.

"Sorry," the woman smiled, "I'm the Professor, and this is the Doctor."

"Hello, John Watson is it?" the Doctor shook his hand before giving him two Gallic air kisses.

"Um…yeah?" John leaned away slightly, "Sorry, Doctor who? Professor of what exactly?"

"Just the Doctor," Leena smiled, "It's so good to see you again!" she hugged the Doctor too.

John blinked and started to nod, "Your physician and tutor…the Doctor and Professor…"

The Professor smiled at that, "Spot on," and winked, before she glanced to the side and looked at Sherlock, "Shirley, I think we broke your friends."

Sherlock looked over to see that the three hunters and…whatever that Castiel bloke was, were just staring at the ship in wide eyed awe, stunned, "They're not our friends."

"What the hell is this?!" Dean recovered, "Noah's freaking Ark!?"

"Close," the Doctor smiled, "Let me tell you Noah was a fibber, lied through his teeth about just how many animals he needed us to help move."

"And yet you believed him," the Professor nudged him, "And, if I recall correctly, you were rather fond of playing with the stray puppies that his sons snuck on."

The Doctor smiled at that, "We should get a dog!"

"We should get a _cat_," she corrected.

"Cats are EVIL though."

"You…knew Noah?" Castiel blinked at them, not entirely sure if they were being truthful, was THIS the actual Ark? It seemed likely, it was…

"It's bigger on the inside," Sam breathed, the same time the Doctor and Professor (and Sherlock and Leena) said it with him.

"Really?" the Professor shrugged, "Never noticed."

Michelle shook her head at that and blinked, looking around, "Ok, Ark or not…where ARE we?"

"The TARDIS," Sherlock stated, "It's called the TARDIS."

"Time and Relative Dimensions in Space," Leena added, "Can go anywhere in time and space."

John blinked and turned to Sherlock, "You're having me on aren't you? Please tell me you are."

"Why would I 'have you on?'" Sherlock blinked.

"Holy sh…" John cut himself off, "This is…"

"This cannot be the ark," Castiel shook his head, still hung up on THAT statement instead of the fact that they might just be in an alien spaceship, "I have heard tell of the ark, and this cannot be it."

"You'd be surprised what the Bible gets wrong," Michelle reminded him, as though trying to send a point to him in her words.

"The Bible says it was a wooden ship that held two of each animal yes?" the Professor smiled.

"Well the TARDIS_ is_ a wooden box on the outside," the Doctor agreed, "And there's an infinite amount of rooms down that hall…"

"Do you still have the swimming pool?" Leena turned to them.

"And the library?" Sherlock inquired.

The Professor laughed, "I think the pool might be IN the library now."

"Hold on," John shook his head, "You're not telling me…we're on a spaceship."

"Ok," the Doctor shrugged.

"Are we on a spaceship?"

The Doctor blinked, "You said not to tell you."

"But yes," the Professor nodded, "In your terms, this IS a spaceship."

"You're aliens?" Michelle eyed them, that was…NOT something most Hunters believed in. Much like Big Foot.

"By your terms, like the Professor said, we're Time Lords," the Doctor agreed, "In our terms YOU're the aliens."

"You're not aliens," Sam shook his head.

"I do not sense they are humans," Castiel remarked.

"Sense us?" the Professor eyed him.

"I am an Angel of the Lord," Castiel stated, before looking down, "Or I was."

"Really?" the Doctor grinned, "Tell me, how's Brian doing?"

"Brian?" Castiel tilted his head.

"They call him God, dear," the Professor reminded him.

"God's name is…Brian?" Dean shook his head, starting to feel overwhelmed by all this.

"No," the Professor shook her head, "That's just the name he plumbs in when he forgets someone's name."

"So you two…have met God?" Michelle gave them an odd look.

The Doctor shrugged, "Probably, met an awful lot of people in the last 900 years, but…" he stepped up to Castiel, eyeing him closely, nearly invading his personal space though Castiel just stood there and allowed it, not having the qualms with it that Dean and other humans did, before he flashed him with the sonic, scanning him an d reading the results, "Ah, yes," he nodded heading back to the Professor to show her the results, "As I thought, yes, we have met your god then."

"Not to interrupt," Leena called, "But we didn't exactly call you in to discuss theologies."

"Right yes," the Doctor looked at her, "You two have got a bit of a hound problem on your hands haven't you?"

"It's not a hound," Sam offered, "It's a…" he looked at Michelle and Dean, who shrugged and shook their heads, might as well, nothing they could say would sound weirder than this, "It's a werewolf."

"But YOUR terms, yes," the Doctor nodded.

"It's actually a Lupine Wavelength Hemovariform," the Professor added.

"A who's-it-what-it?" Dean blinked.

"It's a human with a…genetic anomaly," she tried to explain without overwhelming them even more, "That allows it to genetically re-incode to a wolf-like creature. It's activated by the wavelengths of the moon's rays and transverses through the hemoglobin, er, the blood…sound like your werewolf?"

"I don't know," Dean rolled his eyes, "Do they eat the hearts of their victims?"

"Yes," the Doctor and Professors stated.

"Turn during the full moon?"

"Yes."

"Killed by silver?"

"Yes, also allergic to mistletoe."

"Which was why I was suggesting we remain near it," Sherlock added.

Dean shook his head, "No, no, it's a werewolf. They're not aliens."

"You'd think the same about bees but you'd be wrong," the Doctor remarked.

Dean blinked, "Right, bees are aliens. And you're aliens. And the wolf's an alien. What, is Cas an alien too!?"

"Dean calm down," Sam tried to reassure him.

"Well, actually…" the Doctor began.

But the Professor put a finger on his lips, "Repeat after me Doctor, 'I will not shatter the foundation of a major monotheistic religious order…again.'"

"Oi!" the Doctor pulled her finger off his lips, placing a small kiss to her finger first before holding her hand, "When did I do it the first time?"

"The Church of the Tin Vagabond?"

"They were worshipping a Cyberman!" he defended.

"Ok," Leena cut in, "Sherwood and I recognized it from those stories you used to tell us," she looked at the Time Lords.

The Doctor and Professor had been a part of their lives since they were children. They'd come to Sherlock's home a few months after she had arrived, just after his prior tutor won the lottery, and had been…the most interesting tutor and physician that they'd ever known. It was quite a bit like Mary Poppins in a way, they had magical adventures in the TARDIS once or twice, got to help solve mysteries in the past. What happened on Roanoke, where did Atlantis go, where does the last sock disappear in the dryer. The Doctor had helped her learn English, the Professor had helped Sherlock hone his deductive abilities. According to the woman, Sherlock had one of the sharpest minds she'd seen in a human, of course she couldn't say of anyone as the Doctor was in the room (though the Doctor insisted it was because SHE was in the room). She'd given him the tools he needed to shape his skills to what they were, he'd truly taken to her motto of 'use your eyes, Shirley, notice everything.'

That was why Sherlock was the way he was, why he spent so much attention to detail, because the Professor had believed in him as a child. Oh Mycroft had been a bit put out that the Professor had thought that Sherlock had more skill in that area than he did, he'd spent ages trying to prove he knew more and saw more than Sherlock did, but he was too…stationary. He was more suited for noticing things in the government and sitting behind a desk and paperwork where Sherlock was more going out there and staying active. He got that from the Doctor's teachings to 'Love the running!'

She'd been very fond of the two of them as well, they were like close family members to her, she had the phone number to the TARDIS in her mobile, and…well, she'd called them after Sherlock had jumped off the roof. Even though she knew he was alive, she'd still needed to call her old friends, just needing comfort. While they couldn't come to visit, they had hinted that they were sure 'Sherlock made quite the SPLASH with what he did.' The Doctor had then gone onto repeat 'splash' about two more times which she knew…she knew what had happened. No matter what Sherlock told her or others, and he'd have to tell them something as no one…save maybe Anderson as he HAD come rather close to guessing it…would think that a magic blue police telephone box had appeared mid-fall, invisible, with the doors opening and saving Sherlock as he dove into the swimming pool…and, as it was a time machine, it could appear on the ground, equally as invisible and Sherlock could be out there. It would appear in the blink of an eye for it all to happen, but with a time machine like the TARDIS anything was possible. Only she really knew that the Doctor and Professor had been involved, not even Sherlock had told her, but they both knew.

"Yes, Queen Victoria and the Werewolf," Sherlock nodded, "We knew you would be the only ones who would know how to stop it."

"Et hem?" Dean cleared his throat, crossing his arms, "We've stopped plenty of werewolves in the past."

"Well we didn't know who you were, did we?" Leena countered.

"Sam and Dean Winchester," the Professor remarked, "And Michelle Davidson, along with Castiel the Angel."

"How did you…" Michelle stared at her.

"Ever heard of the Supernatural books?" she smirked as they groaned, "The TARDIS can detect anomalies like books being tied to the lives of others. I did some digging about the three of you. Welcome back from 'hell,'" she added to Michelle.

Sam blinked, "You worked that out from the ending?"

They'd read the books, especially that last part, all it really said was Dean went to hell and then Michelle disappeared.

"It's obvious," the Professor shrugged.

John rubbed his head, "Ok, I can see the familiarity now."

"Getting back to the point," Leena laughed, "We need a way to stop the…can we just call it a hound for now? Not a Werewolf or a Lupine Wavelength Hemovariform?"

Dean sighed and waved it on, "Whatever."

"Right well, luckily, there's a full moon tomorrow," the Doctor turned and walked up to the console, the Professor with him, Sherlock and Leena followed close behind with the others a bit more sedate in pace, "We should be able to rig up a little trap to stop it, should be able to give you lot," he looked at the Americans, "Time to do what you do."

"You can STOP a werewolf?" Sam blinked, "Like a Devil's Trap stops demons?"

"Not sure what that is," the Doctor pointed at him, "But let's go with yes."

"How?" Michelle asked, that would be very useful.

"Well, first, we'll need access to a very…rare crystal."

The Professor nodded and looked at Sherlock, "What are the chances that Mikey can get his hands on the Koh-I-Noor?"

Sherlock smirked and picked up his phone to call his dear brother…while John just shook his head, "Mikey?"

~8~

The Doctor was like a kid in a candy store as he moved around the console, "Werewolves and Hounds and Lupine Wavelength Hemovariforms, oh my!" he cheered, spinning around the Professor and kissing her cheek before he continued on.

"Oh, we should go meet Lyman again," she smiled at him.

"Lyman?" Sam frowned as he, Leena, Sherlock, and Dean remained in the console with the Time Lords waiting for their plan to take action.

"Lyman Frank Baum," Leena remarked, "The author of the Wizard of Oz."

"You know…" Sam began, before shaking his head, "Time machine."

"You know you're adapting remarkably well to being in here," the Professor told him.

"Yes, Sherlock stood stock still for an hour, frowning and pouting and trying to work out how the impossible could exist," the Doctor remarked.

"Dean and John aren't quite coping as well, are they?" Leena sighed.

"Yeah," Dean scoffed, "Well if you weren't trying to kill be by, not just flying in the sky, but through a fiery wormhole of death, things would be different!"

"Sorry," the Professor told her, before a beep went off on the console, "The wolf's nearly back," she looked at them, "Places everyone."

The Doctor, Sherlock and Leena gathered by the console, keeping an eye on the monitor and watching while Sam and Dean waited by the doors, the Professor stepping out to join Michelle, John, and Castiel outside. There had been…quite a lot of arguing about who should go where and do what once they'd worked out a plan and NOT a thing like the Doctor wanted. The better shots were meant to go outside, to offer Castiel more protection.

The angel was going to act as bait for them, since he was the only one who could disappear on a whim instantly and so he would be the target. He was going to cut his hand, use the blood to draw the Hound towards him. Then, when it lunged right at where he was standing, the Doctor, Sherlock, and Leena would activate the TARDIS. They'd replaced the bulb on top with the Koh-I-Nor and placed the box right where the moonlight was the brightest. They'd be able to direct the light to trap the wolf midair. Then, Dean and Sam would run out with their guns and silver ready and take the Hound out. The Time Lords were not exactly happy that the trio had plans to kill the Hound, but, given what they knew of the infection that had gotten to Victoria's family, they didn't want to risk it striking another. Outside, Michelle, the Professor, and John were waiting, hiding behind trees, wearing garlands of mistletoe for protection and ready to fire at the hound incase anything went wrong.

It was one of the Professor's plans, tweaked slightly by Michelle and Sherlock as they went about making it. So the Doctor had every confidence that it would work just flawlessly. Her plans usually did. Dean had tried to argue that it should be him, Sam, and Michelle out there as it was their hunt and they were the only ones who had the weapons that could actually kill the hound. But when they mentioned that they needed to trap it first and make sure that it wasn't going to attack one of them in the process…and then had the Professor and Dean do a small test of shooting five shots at a bull's-eye where she won, he'd relented. Since he'd fallen and dropped his gun earlier it had proven Sherlock's deduction that he and Sam often lost their guns so all the ones with the more military experience were out there to face the hound, the ones with the weapons were at the door, and the more sharp minded were at the console to work the controls.

And now the sensors had picked up that the hound was back. It was the next night, the last night of the full moon, the Doctor had gotten the timing a bit off at first with ending up there at 12 am instead of 12pm, and then again with making it the next night instead of a continuation of the last one. Still, they had a plan, they were prepared, and they knew that the hound was coming. Any moment now their plan would go into play and they'd hopefully have dealt with a werewolf.

The Doctor looked down at the monitor, watching as Castiel cut his hand and moved back into position, the others ducking behind the trees. He could feel his hearts pounding in his chest. Despite knowing that she could handle herself, he always got worried when she faced dangers like this. The sensors started to beep faster, indicating the Hound was getting closer. He could see it now, in the monitor, a black shape creeping through the trees, the TARDIS set on 'night vision' so that they wouldn't need more lights than necessary.

He swallowed hard, watching as it caught the scent of the blood and turned, lunging at Castiel, "Now!" he called as he, Sherlock, and Leena, pulled a lever each, the bulb on the top of the TARDIS igniting, sending out a blast of light at the wolf as it froze midair, suspended there as Castiel disappeared and reappeared in the TARDIS, "Go!" he called to the Winchesters as he saw Michelle, the Professor, and John step out from behind the trees, their guns and weapons raised and trained on the hound in case the wavelength couldn't hold.

Sam and Dean burst out of the TARDIS, rushing towards the wolf as it was suspended in air and quickly fired one shot each, Sam's through the heart, Dean's through the head, the light that was holding it up disappearing as the Hound fell to the ground. Everyone rushed out of the TARDIS and over to the boys as they slowly approached the creature, watching as it slowly reverted back to its human form in its death.

"Knew it," Michelle shook her head as they looked down at the prone form of John Brown, "His hair…the fur that we saw, the wolf hair…it was HIS hair."

The Professor knelt down and started to look at the body, wanting to make sure that it was truly gone and it wouldn't be another Lazarus event.

"Do you think he knew?" Leena frowned, "We asked him questions about it. He remembered a monster attacking the other hiker, do you think he knew it was HIM?"

"I don't doubt it," the Professor sighed, standing up and handing them a paper she'd found in the man's pockets, the only thing in his pocket.

"Great," Dean scoffed as he passed the note on, for that's what it was, a note, a letter.

~8~

John Brown was, in fact, a descendent of Sir Robert, the head of the Torchwood estate. The Doctor hadn't seen a body when they'd escaped the room that he and Rose had hidden in to try and protect Queen Victoria. He'd assumed that the wolf had just torn the poor man apart. As it turned out, he was wrong. Some months later, Sir Robert appeared before his wife once more, having survived with quite a large amount of scarring and wounds, but he was alive…and infected as was the Queen. His wife had loved him regardless, both of them taking precautions against him harming others during the full moon. They had a child, and discovered with horror that the boy had the trait as well, was a 'werewolf' too. And so the chain had continued, each child having only one of their own, a girl was born, John Brown's mother, and then him. He couldn't bear the thought of his legacy, of being hidden away and chained up and locked away for those three days a month.

He'd wanted to go free just once, sure that it would be ok, because no one ventured into the moors, and he'd been right. That one time turned into more and more and more. He hadn't even realized that the few people who disappeared over the last few decades had been his doing, there was never any sign of it on him. There were no wounds, no bodies, no evidence on him at all that he'd done anything. People went missing in the moors all the time after all. But the last hiker…John Brown hadn't been the man's friend and travelling through the moors with him, he hadn't even known the man really. What he claimed to remember of the attack…was a leaking in his memories and the fact that this time, he hadn't been fast enough, he hadn't been good enough to get to the hiker and tear at him quickly enough. The man had run, he'd run away but he'd pounced, he'd torn the man apart but the man kept fighting, tried to get away and had managed to crawl to just by the mistletoe plant before he'd died. When Brown had tried to go after him, he'd run into the mistletoe and been disoriented, had stumbled away and…the next thing the man knew, he'd woken up in the woods with the mistletoe on his face and the dead hiker beside him. He'd dragged the man back to where the body had been found and run to the towns, claiming that they'd both been attacked.

But he'd realized that it was him, HE was the one who had been causing the people to go missing in the moor, and HE had been the one to brutally attack the poor hiker. And he couldn't bear that knowledge. He had been the one to speak to Henry Knight about the attack, tried to make it seem like what they knew of the last 'Hound' attacks so that Henry would contact John and Sherlock. He had been hoping that they'd come to the moors and that, as they had with the last dog, that they'd shoot him. He hadn't thought about them thinking him a werewolf and that they would need silver. Luckily the blog had caught the eye of others, of Hunters of the Supernatural, and THEY had come prepared as well as the Time Lords from Gallifrey understanding about the mistletoe and the light of the moon and how he could finally been stopped.

It had all been an elaborate plan and hope of John Brown to make amends for what he'd done, to stop him because he didn't think he could stop himself. He didn't want to be locked away so much, but he couldn't be trusted to be out in the moors, and that was no way to live. So he'd made sure that he would be taken care of in the end.

"It's like suicide by cop," Leena remarked as they all stood in the woods, the Winchesters and Michelle having buried the poor man, salting and burning him first before burying the ashes, not wanting to risk a vengeful werewolf ghost coming back after them all, "When they know they can't escape something or live through it, when they know they can't do it themselves, they get someone else to take the shot for them."

The Doctor put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it, "At least he didn't infect anyone else."

"Yeah," Sam nodded sadly, "We've seen things like this, lineage among monsters. It's hell having to tell someone that you're the same monster your parents were…at least he knew."

"He should have taken more precautions though," Michelle remarked.

"Life in a cage?" the Professor shook her head, "It's no way to live."

Sherlock took a deep breath, "Another case solved. And NOT a copycat," he gave John a pointed look.

John rolled his eyes, "Yeah, I know, the Great Sherlock Holmes was right again."

"We know that feeling," Dean nudged Michelle, "Little Miss Mickey here loves to tell us she told us so."

"She has to," Castiel remarked, "You never listen to her unless she points that out."

Michelle merely smirked and looked over at the others, "Well it was um…something, meeting you, but we have to get back, need to buy return flight tickets and get back to America."

"You don't buy round trip?" John frowned.

"In their line of work, I doubt they'd be confident that they'd be alive to use them," Sherlock answered.

"And every penny counts," Sam agreed.

"I've been told to save my strength," Castiel offered as excuse for his lack of teleporting.

The Doctor started to smile, "We could help you get back," he offered.

"Oh come on!" Dean groaned, "In there?" he grimaced at the TARDIS.

The Professor just laughed, "Come on, it's either a five second hop to America in a wooden box through the Time Vortex or you get strapped down to a metal box and jolted around for 8 hours flying above the entire ocean."

"Right, box…thing…it is," Dean nodded, heading for the TARDIS, Sam, Michelle, and Castiel following him.

"Do you need a lift?" the Professor looked at Sherlock, Leena, and John.

"No, we're fine," Leena nodded, "Our car is back in the village and it's not that far," she took Sherlock's hand and the Time Lords nodded, knowing exactly what they meant, they wanted some time to enjoy the walk together.

The Doctor winked as the Professor gave them a small salute, before they headed into the TARDIS once more, Sherlock, Leena, and John waving at the box as it slowly disappeared.

~8~

"What in the hell?!" Bobby demanded as a blue telephone box appeared in the middle of his scrap yard while he was sitting outside, just drinking a beer and reading some more information on Lucifer.

He was even more shocked when a rather green looking Dean stumbled out, followed by Sam and Michelle laughing at him, and Castiel who just stood there and watched the box as it disappeared again, a curious look on his face.

"Dean?" Bobby looked at him.

Dean just shook his head, "Don't ask, just…tell me where my baby is."

Bobby pointed to the side where the Impala was parked and watched as Dean headed over to it, moving one of the seats forward and getting in the back, lying down with a groan.

"Sam?" Bobby turned to him, "What the hell happened to him?" but Sam and Michelle just laughed and stepped into the house to get a small drink, leaving him with Castiel, "Don't suppose you'll tell me either?"

Castiel just glanced at the Impala then where the box had been and back, "Dean experienced travel in Noah's Ark."

Bobby stared at him a minute before he shook his head, turning to wheel back inside to his study, muttering, 'Damn cryptic angels,' under his breath.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it :) Lol, originally this was titled 'Werewolves and Hounds and Lupine Wavelength Hemovariforms, oh my!' but that was a bit of a mouthful lol :)

I can say we'll also be getting a second one-shot crossover on the 13th of October, in 6 months as a sort of halfway marker :) That one will be a continuation of Wibbly-Wobbly, Timey-Wimey and will feature the 11th incarnations of Proffy/Evy/Angel :) I can also say that in 2015, on October 13th, we'll get a third chapter of that series where we'll see the same 3 TLs, but with all their children present ;)

I can't quite say what I'm planning for 2015 for April though, I keep changing my mind between a Star Trek crossover with Cora and Victoria (possibly an OC for Khan or Bones in there somewhere) or perhaps a DW/Merlin crossover (I can imagine Uther crying sorcery when a blue box appears out of nowhere lol) or even a Thor crossover with Kona and Athena (she'll be up in a few months), or even a Big Bang Theory/Star Trek crossover where Sheldon Cooper gets beamed aboard the Enterprise and meets both Cora and Victoria lol :)

SO many ideas :)


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